The Hunt Is On
by TantalumCobolt
Summary: The one where Ethan meets Will's siblings (aka Will 2.0 and Will 3.0, according to Benji.)
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** **Hi everyone :) I'm back again with more triplet mayhem! I thought it was about time Ethan and Benji met Will's brothers (in true Barton fashion, of course) and this was born.**

 **As always... Enjoy!**

* * *

There are three things in life Clint loves to do more than anything else. Number one; shooting his baby (aka his precious bow). Number two; spending time with his brothers. And number three; scaring the shit out of people (preferably the new recruits and preferably with Natasha's help).

And if a good day is any day he gets to do at least two of those things then today is fan-fucking-tastic because it's only lunch time and he's already done all three. Admittedly, it wasn't the baby SHIELD agents he scared, and he didn't have the help of his favourite Russian assassin, but it had almost been _more fun_ because it had been the person currently at the top of his 'if I get bored I might just torture you' list. Yes, you guessed it: _Ethan freaking Hunt._

But Clint didn't come to be having so much fun on one of his rare days off from SHIELD just by chance. No, it all began the night before...

 _Clint is just sitting down on the couch with a cold beer and a box of pizza when he hears the window in his bathroom slide open. His first thought is Natasha, but she's away hunting self-proclaimed Neo-Nazis in Germany and, besides, she'd just pick the lock on his front door if she forgot her key._

 _So, having reached the conclusion that it isn't his usual partner in crime breaking into the apartment he keeps in the city for his days off SHIELD, Clint sets aside his beer with a mournful look and retrieves the gun he'd stashed between the couch cushions._

 _(Just to be safe, you understand.)_

 _As it turns out, both the gun and alarm (more like resignation) at the thought of an intruder are unnecessary as, not ten seconds later, a head identical to his own appears around the doorframe, followed closely by the rest of an identical body._

 _"Hey bro," the not-intruder says with a grin._

 _Clint grins back, dropping his gun onto the couch so he can launch himself at his brother. "Aaron!" the archer exclaims. "What are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet at the farm tomorrow."_

 _Aaron returns his younger brother's hug just as exuberantly. "We have a problem," he explains, pushing Clint back to sit on the couch and reaching past him to steal a piece of pizza. "Will's working on Saturday."_

 _"What? No! It's Lila's birthday - we have plans!" Clint protests. "I promised the kids that there favourite Uncle would be there."_

 _"I will be," Aaron deadpans, just dodging the piece of pepperoni Clint tosses at his head._

 _"Not funny, Aaron," the archer growls. "This is serious! What are we going to do?!"_

 _The former outcome operative smirks, a mischievous gleam alight in his eyes. "I have a plan," he promises. "You up for a road trip?"_

 _Clint's own smirk is just as devious. "As much fun as hours spent in a car with you would be, I've got a better idea. You ever been in a quinjet...?"_

* * *

Less than twelve hours later, Clint is breaking into the so-called safe house where his younger brother and his team are holed up, planning for some life-or-death mission (or something like that). He's surprised how easy it is really. An arrow to take out the cameras, another one to grapple onto the roof, and a little bit of shimmying is all it takes before he's sliding down the chimney and rolling out onto the living room floor amid a cloud of soot.

When he stands up from the crouch he'd landed in, absently brushing dust off his pants as he flicks his wrist to unfold his bow, there are three shocked faces staring at him. It's only when Hunt finally snaps to attention and pulls a gun that the archer realises how threatening he must look decked out in full tactical gear - including a small arsenal of weapnry - and covered from head to tow in soot. He mentally shrugs: better threatening than comical.

 _"_ Good afternoon gentleman," Clint drawls, shit-eating grin firmly in place, teeth gleaming white amid the black now costing every inch of his body. He tilts his head in Hunt's direction even as his eyes seek out Will's in the small room. "You can put the gun away, Agent Hunt. I just came to talk."

 _Well, and essentially kidnap my baby bro but, eh, details._

Hunt only hefts the gun higher, aiming at Clint's head instead of his heart. "Who the hell are you?" he demands. "And why the fuck shouldn't I put a bullet through your brain?"

Will snorts. "You can try but I doubt it would stop him," he remarks dryly. Hunt looks like he's going to take the suggestion seriously and Will hastens to add, "Relax, Ethan. He comes in peace."

"Um, peace?" The team's tech specialist speaks up. "You are aware he just broke in here, right Brandt? And I'm pretty sure he's carrying an entire small armoury. How exactly does that sound like peace?!"

Clint rolls his eyes, already losing patience with the chit chat. "Okay, firstly; breaking in was ridiculously easy. You should really update your security. Secondly; _this_ -" he gestures to himself. "-is _barely_ enough to fill a small armoury. I could have fit ten more knives on me but I chose not because - and this brings us to the third point - this is actually a friendly visit."

Dunn glances first at Will then Hunt, looking for guidenace on how they should proceed. If it were up to Hunt, Clint would probably be leaving the house in a body bag (well, Hunt would _attempt_ to put him in a body bag anyway), but Will speaks before Hunt has a chance to give the kill order.

"Ethan, Benji," the sometimes-analyst-sometimes-field-agent says slowly. "This is my _glupyi_ older brother, Clint." Almost as an afterthought he adds, "Please don't try to kill him. It wouldn't end well and would likely just be embarrassing for you."

Hunt and Dunn both frown at that, Hunt probably taking offence at the insinuation that he isn't actually God's gift to alphabet agencies, Dunn probably still caught up on the brother bit. Clint ignores them both though, turning instead to his little brother with a bright grin.

"Long time no see, Willy," he sing-songs, moving forward to wrap his brother in a hug. Will, however, puts a hand out to stop him getting closer than an arms length away.

"No," the youngest Barton says firmly "You are not coming near me looking like that. There's a bathroom down the hall, go clean up and then I'll reconsider."

Clint pouts, clearly miffed at being bossed around by his baby bro, but heads down the hall to do as he's told anyway. When he reappears in the room five minutes later, freshly scrubbed, heated whispers immediately cut off. The SHIELD sniper rolls his eyes at the lack of subtlety.

"Seriously guys-" he begins, a lecture on subtlety on the tip of his tongue, but Benji Dunn interrupts before he can get any further.

"Holy shit you guys are identical!" The tech specialist exclaims. "Oh my god Brandt why didn't you tell us there were two of you?!"

Clint and Will sigh simultaneously, sharing a well-practised look of exasperation that always accompanies someone finding out they're twins - well, triplets actually, but until Aaron is forcibly dragged into the picture they just go with twins. It saves time and confusion that way. Well, unless they're intentionally setting out to mess with people (which Clint totally is right now).

"No, we're not clones," Will immediately assures his teammates.

"But there are _two of you_ ," Dunn reiterates.

Clint chuckles, muttering a dry "Three, actually."

Dunn's eyes go impossibly wider before narrowing in suspicion. Hunt just looks mildly alarmed.

"Brandt?" the team leader questions, an uncharacteristic unsureness in his tone.

Clint waves his hands impatiently, grabbing his brother's jacket sleeve and tugging. "No time for show and tell, Willy," he says brusquely. "Our chariot awaits! And by _awaits_ I mean our dear older brother is probably about to leave without us..."

Even as he lets Clint pull him towards the door, Will seems reluctant to leave. "I'm _working_ , Clint," he protests.

"Exactly!" the archer chimes. "And you promised the kids you'd be home for Christmad so _let's go._ "

The two brothers disappear through the front door, still bickering, leaving Ethan Hunt and Benji Dunn staring in stunned silence. The last thing they hear is Clint's gleeful "don't worry, Willy, Aaron misappropriate a getaway car for us".

Then Benji turns to his teamleader and (dare he say) friend, an interesting mixture of awe and curiously on his face. "So, Will 2.0 seems kinda awesome," the tech specialist says hesitantly.

Ethan Hunt just growls. "Get in the damn car, Benji," he orders. "I'm not going to just let that sonuvabitch steal my agent, twin brother or not."

Which is a noble plan, really, except for the slight hitch when they get outside and realise the car is no longer in the driveway...


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Here is the final chapter for this fic. This one is a little bit longer because it kind of ran away from me, but I hope you enjoy :)**

 **I am always happy to take requests for stories in either of my series as well so feel free to leave something in a review.**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

Aaron maintains that it really wasn't his fault. According to the eldest Barton brother, it was Clint's fault, which isn't all that surprising really. But Clint is even more insistent than Aaron that he had nothing to do with it.

'It' being the shiny, black, bullet-proof, gadget-enhanced Range Rover which is now at the bottom of Lake Superior. Which maybe wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't _Ethan's_ shiny, black, bullet-proof, gadget-enhanced Range Rover.

"How the hell am I supposed to explain this?" Will demands, arms crossed, famous Barton scowl etched onto his face as he stares down his brothers. Aaron and Clint remain annoyingly unfazed. And just annoying in general.

"Well, if you can't find the words in English, you could try another language," Clint suggests (oh so helpfully). "How about Spanish? Surely the great and mighty Ethan Hunt knows Spanish."

Needless to say, the sarcasm is unappreciated, serving only to fuel Will's irritation at the predicament his brothers have gotten themselves (and him) into. While Aaron and Clint squabble over whose fault it was, Will can safely say that he definitely wasn't involved because he wasn't in the car. He'd arrived on the scene mere minutes after everything had taken place, motorcycle wheels skidding in the dust, only to find Aaron and Clint standing atop a cliff with no sign of Ethan's precious car. He hadn't been impressed.

"Thank you, Clinton," Will snaps. "For that brilliantly helpful suggestion."

"You're _most_ welcome, William," Clint snarks back with a smirk..

"Guys." Aaron interrupts. He's staring into the distance past Clint's head, eyes tracking something that he probably wouldn't have been able to see before Outcome enhanced his senses. "Whatever excuse we're going to use, we should probably come up with it fast. Hunt approaching, ETA six minutes."

Clint spins around to follow his brother's gaze, squinting against the glare of the sun. He mutters something under his breath that Will doesn't catch, probably cursing the existence of Hunts and Range Rovers in some obscure language.

"How did you even see that?" Will asks Aaron. He knows his brother's vision is good, but that good? Really? Come on. "And how can you be sure it's Ethan?"

Aaron grins, lifting the hand that isn't shielding his eyes from the sun. He's holding his phone, the screen showing a map with two moving dots, one red and one blue. Will blinks at it for several seconds, then-

"You put a _tracker_ on my team leader?!"

Aaron shrugs, entirely unrepentant. "Benji too."

"Oh for the love of-" Will runs a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to slap his brothers until they see sense (or stars, whichever comes first... so probably the stars).

"Four minutes," Aaron says. "Better stop berating us and start thinking, Willy."

"I say we make Aaron take the rap," Clint pipes up.

Now, it must be pointed out that sually Will would be opposed to throwing one of his brothers under the metaphorical (or literal) bus. But it's been a long day and he's really not in the mood to face Ethan's inevitable wrath. So he agrees with only mild hesitation, pulling Clint onto the back of his bike and levelling Aaron with a look that screams "this is your chance to redeem yourself and earn substantial brownie points, don't fuck it up" before revving the engine and taking off.

"Call us if you're not dead in ten minutes!" Clint yells over his shoulder, waving smugly at his older brother.

Aaron's heated swearing comes clear across their telepathic connection.

* * *

"Hi, my name's Aaron and I know I look like Will and Clint but I promise I'm not either of them. Or a clone. In fact, we're actually triplets. But anyway I just wanted to say sorry about stealing your car and that it really wasn't my fault." Aaron smiles innocently.

The two figures in front of him continue to look displeased and unconvinced.

"Brandt-" Ethan Hunt begins sternly, but he gets no further before Aaron interrupts.

"It's Cross, actually," the former Outocme operative corrects. "Like I said, just because I look like Will doesn't mean I am him. My name's Aaron Cross."

Behind Hunt's scowling face, Will's team's tech specialist fairly bounces in his spot. "No way," he whispers in ill-concealed awe. Then, louder, "Holy shit, Efhan, Will 2.0 was right. There _are_ three of them."

In stark contrast to the gleeful expression creeping across Benji Dunn's face, Hunt continues to glower at the eldest of the Barton triplets. Aaron resists the urge to fidget. Only guilty people fidget and, as he'd pointed out rather emphatically to Will, his is _not guilty_.

"Where's Brandt?" Hunt asks - well demands - in his best 'I could kick your ass in five seconds flat so you better give me exactly what I want' tone. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you view the situation) for Ethan Hunt, he's never met Will's eldest - and _extremely protective_ \- older brother before.

"Not here," Aaron snarks. "He had better places to be, so lucky me gets to deal with you _seronje._ "

Hunt's eyes narrow at the insult even as Dunn tugs on the back of his shirt and mutters "please don't kill him Ethan, Brandt would never forgive us and I kinda like having Brandt around".

Aaron gives the tech specialist a charming smile (which has the added benefit of irking Hunt even more). "You're probably the only one," he jokes, knowing full well his brother is listening in to every word he says (if not through their connection, then through the comm. unit in his ear. Because, unofficial or not, what kind of op would it be without comms.?).

 _"Not funny, Kenneth,"_ Will hisses in his ear. So they're doing things the boring, non-telepathic way then, Aaron notes, even as he winces at the use of his full given name. _"If you don't start playing nice I'm going to tell Ethan you drowned his car and let him kick your ass halfway to hell."_

Aaron sighs, returning his attention to the irate IMF agent and awed techy in front of him. "Look," he begins. "I know this whole situation seems really bad, but if you'd just let me explai -"

"You kidnapped my agent," Hunt snarls. "And stole my car."

Aaron winces. When you put it like that it does sound pretty bad... but, "Alright, _imbécil,_ first of all; 'your' agent is _my_ baby brother, so I'm just gonna pretend you didn't dare accuse me of _kidnapping_ him. Second; if that's the way you're gonna talk to someone who has your boss' phone number and could get you fired - or worse - in under a minute, you _deserve_ to have your fucking car stolen."

In his ear, Aaron hears Will's sigh and Clint's muttered (gleeful) _"here we go"_ , but he elects to ignore them in favour of smirking at the suddenly wary, though still doubtful, look that creeps into Hunt's narrowed eyes. Even Dunn's eyes are wide behind the sunglasses which have started slipping down his nose.

"Your bluffing," the IMF golden boy returns calmly. He really isn't fooling anyone.

The eldest Barton's grin is positively feral. "You wanna bet your career on that?"

Ethan does want to bet his career on that, Aaron can see it in his eyes, but the rev of a bike's engine sounds through the clearing before he can say anything more. Clint whoops as he and Wil skid to a stop, spraying sand up Aaron's jean-clad leg. Definitely not an accident.

"Agent Hunt!" The middle Barton cheers with a grin. "I'm so glad you could you join the party, we were just about to-"

Will elbows him in the stomach none too gently and he doubles over with a gasp. "I told you, we're not blowing anything up, Clint!" the youngest triplet snaps.

Aaron knows he's not the only one thinking their brother has become less fun in recent months; Clint is vocal about his agreement and he suspects Natasha agrees as well. Not that she would ever say it unless he and Clint stopped bugging Will and started annoying her instead, though, then she would definitely lecture her boyfriend about indulging his pesky siblings. _Or else._ (With the pointedly lethal Look and everything.)

"Brandt." Ethan greets coolly, eyes flicking between each of the triplets. Benji is less subtle, openly gawking at the picture the three of them make, standing side by side on the edge of the cliff, and- huh, they're even dressed similarly, Aaron realises. Clint had stripped the tact gear in the car and Aaron is ninety-nine percent sure the navy t-shirt he's wearing is actually _Will's_ navy t-shirt... Which means that the navy t-shirt Will is wearing must be _his_ navy t-shirt. How the hell did he not notice that WIll stole his t-shirt?

"Ethan," Will returns, with a half-aologetic, half-chagrined smile. Ever the diplomatic brother. "Is it too late to apologise on behalf to my _mudak_ brothers?"

 _"That's not very nice,"_ Clint mutters petulantly through their connection. Aaron hums in agreement. Just because they essentially kidnapped their baby bro and drove his team leader's car off a cliff...

Ethan takes several seconds to assess the situation and Aaron takes the time to assess him. Hacking into the IMF's database (is it hacking if he just used Will's password?) and reading the (rather extensive) file on Ethan Hunt didn't paint as clear a picture as meeting him in person does. The file had suggested dumb luck and strategic recklessness, meeting him in person suggests that he's good at calculating the odds and making a decision to get the job done. Although, Aaron is still of the belief that dumb luck is the only reason half the plans actually work.

"They have to pay for damages," the IMF agent responds after a long moment. His narrows his eyes when Clint leans closer to his eldest brother and mutters "busted".

Will just nods, running a hand through his hair as is his trademark habit. "Fair enough. What about counselling?" He arches an eyebrow in Benji's direction, clearly concerned about the tech agent's unusual silence. Seeing all three Bartons at one time was obviously too much of a shock.

Benji recovers enough to shake his head. "Uh, no, please no. Those couches are extremely uncomfortable and Dr Riley's goldfish freaks me out."

Ethan rolls his eyes, Will looks amused and long-suffering. Aaron and Clint share confused looks. It's annoying being on the outside of what seems to some kind of inside joke. That must be how everyone else feels around _them._

 _"You think we can convince Tony to pay for the car?"_ Clint asks in Aaron's mind.

The former outcome operative thinks about that for a second, then mentally nods. _"Yeah, he still owes you for Cairo."_

" _Oh yeah,"_ Clint says. " _Forgot about that."_

Aaron looks at his middle brother in amazement. "How do you forget about being not-really-kidnapped?"

"What?"

The bemused British voice snaps Aaron back into focus and he realises he said that last bit out loud. Oops?

Thankfully, in the time that Clint and Aaron were distracted by their own unspoken conversation, Will and Ethan had moved away from the impromptu gathering - probably to argue, if the rapid hand gestures are anything to go by - so Benji is the only witness to the slip up. Even more thankfully, he doesn't make the connection that the question is part of an ongoing conversation. They just met the guy, Aaron really doens't think it would be a good idea to go into detail about their 'freaky triplet connection' just yet. No need to scare off one of their youngest brother's friends. Or worse, make him want to stick around and (cue shudder) study them.

Clint rubs the back of neck, giving a short embarrassed laugh. "Um, remember Cairo?"

The tech specialist's brow furrows. "Of course I remember Cairo; we thought Will ha been bloody kidnapped!"

Aaron shrugs when Clint glances his way for help. _You're on your own, little brother._ Clint sighs. "Yeah, um, that wasn't Will..."

It takes Benji about ten seconds to reach a conclusion with that key piece of information and, funnily enough, it's almost the wrong one. "There's another one of you?!" He blurts out, then, "Wait, no. That was you?!"

Clint shrugs, entirely unrepentant. Aaron rolls his eyes. This is why Will is the diplomatic one and always ends up attempting to talk them out of trouble; Aaron is not unwillingly to admit that he and Clint have very shitty social skills. Or, usually, no social skills at all.

Will and Ethan rejoin the group before Benji can splutter out more indignation that Clint had tricked him and then accidentally-on-purpose been not-really-kidnapped. The youngest Brandt is smiling, which means he either got his way or he's got a foolproof plan to get to his way. Since the argument has already taken place, Aaron really hopes it's the former.

It is. He doesn't know why he ever doubted his youngest brother's supreme diplomatic skills.

"We'll cover for Brandt until Monday," the IMF's golden boy announces grudgingly. "Family is most important, after all."

Aaron gets the vague feeling they're being mocked, but he doesn't really care. So what if people mock you or insult you or whatever once you've already won; that's just petty of them. There is just one problem with getting their way, though...

"We're not all going to fit on that bike, Will." The words are addressed to his brother, but the 'you know what this means' look is directed at Hunt. The IMF agent sighs and tosses over his keys. Aaron's overly-bright grin drops off his face went Clint snatches the keys out of the air first and makes a break for the car.

"You little shit, Clinton!" The eldest triplet yells after him, though there's no real heat behind the words. Peels of satisfied laughter are his only response. He takes off after his middle brother, grumbling under his breath, but pauses to wave over his shoulder when he reaches the car (another shiny black Range Rover. Seriously, where does the guy keep his stash of these?). "Nice to meet you!" He calls, mostly ust for courtesy sake.

Benji's wave back is enthusiastic, but Aaron is sure that his enhanced hearing picks up a muttered "wish I could say the same about you" from Ethan. He grins; mission accomplished (and all that rubbish).

Will slides into the back seat seconds after Aaron slams his door closed and clicks on his seatbelt. He leans forward to give each of his older brother's a warning look. "Try not to drive it over a cliff this time," he deadpans.

Aaron opens his mouth to defend himself - it was _not his fault,_ dammit - but Clint gets in first, managing to look both gleeful and wounded by his younger brother's words.

"Of course not, William" he snarks, just as deadpan. "Aaron isn't driving."

Aaron's indignant "hey!" is, of course, ignored.

* * *

 **Translations:**

 ** _seronje_ (Croatian) - assholes**

 ** _imbécil_ (Spanish) - idiot**

 ** _mudak_ (Russian) - asshole**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I am so very sorry this has taken so long! I completely forgot I hadn't uploaded it :/**

 **I don't think it's quite up to my usual standards and I'm not very happy with it, so this ending may get reworked at some point. Nonetheless, enjoy this ridiculously late chapter...**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Far Away From Ethan Hunt**

In which everyone is excited to see everyone. Except Clint and Aaron, who are more than a little wary about how Nat and Laura will react to their impromptu "rescue" mission.

* * *

The problem with borrowing an invisible jet, Clint realises twenty minutes later, is finding where you parked it. There'd been no issues on the short drive from where they had (accidentally on purpose) driven the first Range Rover over the cliff. The middle Barton maintains that the lack of crashing is because he was driving, but Aaron is argumentative and Will is doubtful. Either way, they'd made it to where they needed to go. But now...

"It was right here!"

Will raises a single unimpressed eyebrow. "Was? Or is?" he asks, tone only faintly mocking. "Because if it's still here and we just can't see it, maybe you should take a walk through the field and find it by touch."

"You just want to point and laugh if I run into it," Clint retorts with a pout. Which is not entirely untrue, but also not the point.

"We won't find it just by standing around," the youngest Barton points out with his usual unfallable (and often annoying) logic.

Aaron materialises between them and Will jumps (not that he was scared or anything... he just hadn't expected his brother to suddenly be right there...). "Perimeter is clear," the eldest Barton reports. Then he pauses and looks between his younger brothers with a frown. "Why are you just standing here? Are we waiting for someone?"

"No," Will says. He jerks a thumb in Clint's direction. "This _idiot_ forgot where he parked the jet."

There is a beat of incredulous silence and then Aaron laughs. "Oh is that all? It's right over there."

He points to a patch of grass about twenty metres to their left. Will can't see anything that differentiates that part of the field from the rest of it, but beside him Clint tilts his head and cheers quietly before dashing off in that direction. He reaches up and taps out the intro for Eye of the Tiger in what appears to be mid air. Seconds later the quinjet takes form beneath his fingers.

"So was this little rescue mission authorised?" Will finally asks once they're in the air and far away from Ethan Hunt.

Clint and Aaron glance at each other. The middle Barton is piloting while his older brother fiddles with dials and presses shiny (but thankfully harmless) buttons in the copilot's seat. From his position behind them, leaning against the back of Aaron's seat, Will only catches Clint's side of the glance, but he knows them well enough to know what the looks convey.

'Do we tell him?' Clint's sidelong glance asks.

'Up to you bro," Aaron's raised eyebrow responds.

Will rolls his eyes at their obvious reluctance. "I'm taking that as a no," he sighs, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. "So who gets to call her?"

"Shot not!" Clint chirps, the words overlapping Aaron's own "not me!".

Sometimes Will wonders why he even bothers with his older brothers. "Okay, fine," he agrees. "But I'm telling her it's your fault."

Their vocal protests follow him to the back of the jet and Will smiles to himself. Good to know that the women in their life can still strike fear into his brothers' hearts - and rightly so; people think Natasha is terrifying but they haven't seen her team up with Laura. And Will is the one who gets to tell them they've been up to no good...

* * *

Natasha is waiting on the verandah. Will takes great pleasure in watching Clint and Aaron's faces pale as he greets her with a kiss. He hadn't told them the outcome of their chat for exactly this reason; the first assumption they'd made was that she'd be pissed that they didn't invite her. Which, granted, she is a little bit, but mostly she's just amused.

"I hear you boys have been striking fear into the hearts of our brothers from a lesser agency," she purrs (conveniently not hearing Will's half-hearted protests that the IMF is _not_ a lesser agency. Honestly, why does he even bother? The only person he might win that argument with is Aaron, if only because the IMF doesn't drug it's agents to make them cold hearted killing machines. Not that they know of, at least).

Clint points a finger over his shoulder at Aaron. "Would you believe me if I said it was his fault?"

"Definitely not," Natasha retorts with a grin. Reassured that he won't be thrown under the bus, Aaron returns it with a smile of his own.

"It's been too long, Nat," he says, brushing past Clint to give her a hug.

She rolls her eyes. "I saw you last month, _Ааро́нка_."

He just shrugs. Apparently on-mission catchups don't count. She can kind of understand that; they _were_ getting shot at at the time. And, officially, she wasn't Natasha Romanoff at the time.

"Daddy!" "Dad!"

Twin squeals from the house precede the door being thrown open and Cooper and Lila launching themselves at the closest of the triplets. Will barely catches the four-year-old before she nose dives down the stairs. Cooper, thankfully, goes for Clint instead.

Lila is already chattering a mile a minute - "Daddy I drew Lucky", "Daddy can we make a sandcastle?", "Daddy Auntie Nat's gonna teach me how to fight" - and Will interrupts her with a chuckle. "Wrong person, Lillipad," he says as he tweaks her nose.

She stops talking to frown at him, hands braced against his chest as she leans back in his arms. Her wide brown eyes glance around at everyone else before she gives her judgement. "Uncle Will?"

"That's right." Will grins even as his brother reaches out to pluck his daughter from his arms. Almost immediately the chatter starts up again.

They move inside, Will grabbing Clint's bag so that he doesn't have to relinquish his merciless tickling of Lila. Natasha tucks herself against his side, smiling as she watches them all, relaxed in a way that she only ever is when they're at the farm.

Laura joins them, a washing basket braced against her hip, smile stretching her lips when her eyes land on her husband. "Clint!" she exclaims. "You're late - but you brought Will."

Clint pecks her on the lips before replying. "We would have been earlier but we had to take a detour to pick Will up."

She frowns. "How much do we have to pay in damages? And how many counselling bills are going to be clogging up our mailbox?"

Clint looks appropriately innocent. Nobody believes it for a second. "No bills, Laura. Not unless the IMF's golden boy wants to admit to being humiliated."

Will, of course, immediately leaps to Hunt's defence. "I wouldn't say _humiliated_..."

He is once more ignored. Again, he wonders why he even bothers. When one brother is an Avenger, the other brother is an enhanced black ops agent and your girlfriend is a world renowned Russian spy-slash-assassin, Ethan Hunt's exploits hardly compare. And Clint may have a point about dumb luck...

He shakes thoughts of Ethan - and by extension, the IMF - away. This weekend is for family. He can worry about work on Monday, when he'll inevitably get an irritated phone call summoning him back to their mission. Until then...

"So what are we doing first?"

Clint and Aaron exchange gleeful looks. "We could-"

"No," Laura interrupts before they can get too attached to their idea. "You are _not_ blowing anything up."

"Aw, Laura," Clint mutters.

Will rolls his eyes. His brothers are incorrigible pyromaniacs.

"What about fireworks?" he can't help asking. "Any good birthday celebration shoudl have fireworks."

The kids cheer. Apparently pyromania is genetic.

* * *

 **AN: I have quite a bit of time off from Real Life at the moment so I'm hoping to get quite a bit of writing done. Prompts/requests are welcome, for these guys or any of the other fandoms I subscribe to - or even suggestions for fandoms I'm not part of since I'm always eager to get hooked on new movies/tv shows/books. Leave me a comment on any of my works, or come find me on tumblr (tantalum-cobalt) or lj (tantalumcobalt) :)**


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